Burning Matches, Lifting Latches
by tlttmn
Summary: A new member who has a past with a current CSI joins the team. As the team's relationship develops and matures, old baggage-good and bad-rears its head in this episodic look into the lives of the CSI team plus one. Rated T for language.
1. Hot Grand Canyon Chick

**A/N: It always kind of bothered me that all the characters seemed to get development and side plots, even if it was just hints of personal life and a past beyond the Lab through the whole series... Except for Nick and Greg. The meaningful development and hints seem to end after season one for the most part. So, considering my need to work on character development skills, I'm introducing an ****OC****, Marina Blair into the mix, and let's see where it goes from here! I've never started a story not knowing exactly where it was leading before, so this should be an interesting experience. I'm just going to write as I go, and hopefully it will end up as an enjoyable story for both you the reader, and me!**

**As with my other fic, this will be a series of episodic chapters... Not necessarily a continuous, chronological plot. A scene here, a scene there, hopefully all connecting into a bigger picture. This first chapter is kind of like a prologue. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own my original character, but not the world in which she lives nor the people she interacts with. ****CSI**** and all related material is the property of its owner, and I claim no affiliation or rights to any of it.**

----

Time line: Sometime during season 1, after the whole Kristy debacle.

----

She was beautiful. Her 5'5" frame strode down the hall, her stride determined and confident, a red pencil skirt hugging her hips perfectly while her crisp white blouse spoke of nothing but business. Her face was soft, her waist was narrow, and her legs? Showstopping. And to make it all even better, she was walking right towards him.

Greg Sanders' hands had frozen in mid-air when she turned the corner into full visibility from his DNA lab post, a set of test results hanging in limbo between the printer and CSI Warrick Brown's outstretched hand. As Greg watched her through the window, her wild light brown hair swinging back and forth with each step, Warrick glanced up to see what had stilled the quirky lab tech. He raised one eyebrow before speaking, "That must be the new hire that Grissom was talking about." The sound that came out of Greg's mouth in reply was unintelligible.

Warrick chuckled a little, turning back and snatching the paper from Greg's hand. "Nice body, dresses well, but I'm not really one for blondes, and she's a little too close to it."

"What's going on here?" CSI Nick Stokes sidled up beside the two, his eyes leaving a file folder and settling on the still frozen Greg.

"Looks like Sidle's got a little competition for Greggo's affections." Warrick pointed through the window. The woman had stopped and now had her head bent as she looked through her purse.

Nick cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.

"What, you know her?"

Nick didn't answer, merely continued to watch the woman through squinted eyes as she found what she was looking for. When she raised her head, their eyes met, and immediately both faces lit up in shock. "No fucking way." With a laugh, Nick was in the hallway.

"Rina?"

"Nicky?"

A squeal of joy met a "Holy Shit!" as Nick literally swept her off her feet and swung her in a circle. Or maybe she leaped into his arms. Neither Greg or Warrick could tell which. But they did know that the hug that followed was just a little too long, and a little too tight for the pair to merely be friends who hadn't seen each other in a while. And was that relief that Warrick saw on Nick's face?

"What are you doing here?" Rina's voice was shrill with shock as the two released each other.

Nick laughed. "I work here. What are you doing here?"

"I start working here tomorrow! I'm meeting with the boss to get the run-down today."

"Jesus Christ, Rina, where have you been?"

"Well, you know the army. I was neither here, nor there."

"Still confidential?"

"Mostly."

Suddenly, as Warrick watched Nick laugh and pull her in for another hug, he realized who she was. "Fuck. That's the hot Grand Canyon chick." He turned to Greg, who had since regained movement and was busying himself with the printer, his face expressing both disappointment and annoyance at the same time.

"Of course. Every 10 that walks into this place is someone's 'Hot Grand Canyon Chick.' Where's my 'Hot Grand Canyon Chick?' and what does that even mean?"

Warrick didn't answer. He merely clapped a hand on his shoulder, and offered the only condolence he could come up with: "Maybe she has a sister."

Greg gave him a skeptical look and Warrick just shrugged. The two looked back up just in time to see the reunited pair disappear around the corner towards Grissom's office, all smiles and laughs. Neither was noticing the red splotch gradually blossoming over Rina's right shoulder.

Greg and Warrick glanced over at each other, eyes meeting. Without a word, both men rushed out after the pair.

----

**More is on the way soon that's longer and meatier! Reviews would be much appreciated! (Oh, and props to anyone who knows where the title is from!)**


	2. Red Splotches

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to have any rights or affiliation to or with the CSI franchise in any way shape or form.**

**A/N: Next installment, and really the last of the blatant set up. I shouldn't feel the need to include the introduction scenes, but for some reason I can't keep myself from it. I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

**----**

"Hey!"

The newly reunited pair continued down the hall towards Grissom's office, Nick gently guiding her the right direction with a hand at the small of her back, both chatting animatedly the whole way.

Warrick tried again. "Hey! Nick!"

The pair turned, Nick shooting a questioning glance towards his co-worker.

"Your beautiful friend there is bleeding," Greg offered, his finger pointing for emphasis. The woman immediately looked over her shoulder, pulling it forward with her opposite hand for a better look. Nick moved to look as well, a slight panic crossing his face as he saw the red spreading through the fabric of her shirt. "Holy shit! What happened?"

In contrast, Rina just sighed, shoulders dropping in resignation. "God damn it. Not again."

Nick looked at her like she just dropped from Mars. "Not again? You mean this happens routinely?" His voice was laced with panic. That blotch was awfully big already, and it was only growing. "Come'on. We've got to get that stopped." He took a deep breath, and switched into work mode. "Let's go. Warrick, will you grab the first aid kit?" Warrick gave a short nod before giving them a gesture to follow him into the break room to retrieve it.

"Nick, I'm fine." Rina protested as he took her arm and began leading her towards the table Warrick was now placing the kit down on.

"No, you're not. Stop being stubborn. Greg? There's a clean extra shirt in my locker, can you go grab that?"

"Nick, relax. This isn't a big deal." She turned to address the young lab tech as well. "Greg, don't bother. I'm wearing a cami under this. It's fine."

"Rina, will you please stop it?" Nick pulled her to face him taking both her wrists in his hands. "I don't know what happened, but bottom line is you're bleeding, and that's usually not a positive thing."

"I ripped some stitches. Not a big deal. I'll just re-stitch, re-wrap, and be good to go." Her tone was dismissive. He always had been protective, and all these years later she still wasn't sure how she felt about that. "I've got supplies in my purse just in case." She shrugged out of his grasp, and began unbuttoning the now saturated shirt.

This time it was Greg who looked at her like she dropped from Mars. "You're going to re-stitch yourself?"

She spoke without looking up. "If I need to and if I can reach. I probably don't need it. Sometimes the damn thing just seeps because it decides it doesn't like my shirt." She shrugged off the apparently offensive garment, leaving only her white camisole, tiny blotches of blood dotting the back around her shoulder. As for her shoulder, the gauze that had surrounded it was now saturated with red, mostly in the back. "Thanks," as she began to open the first aid kit she gave Warrick a quick nod before settling herself in a chair and beginning to unwrap the wound.

"Rina, please let me help." Nick was now standing next to her, looking lost. "This is probably my fault. If I had known you were injured, I wouldn't have swung you like that."

At that Rina stopped, wad of bloody gauze in her hand half-unwrapped, and looked up at him, a lop-sided smile crawling across her lips. "It's good to see you haven't changed one bit, Nicky. But you still can't help. I'm fine."

His brow furrowed. "Glad to hear that, but I'm helping whether you want me to or not."

She exhaled loudly and grinned up at him. She had missed feeling cared about. The caring thing was not something the Army excelled at. "Yep. Same old Nicky."

This time he grinned back. "And you're still stubborn as ever, Rina."

"I know."

----

"Greg, have you seen a young woman wandering around here?" Gil Grissom spoke from behind his desk as the lab tech walked past his door.

Greg stopped, popping his head through the door frame, a frown on his face. "The new CSI?"

Grissom's brows furrowed. "Yes. She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Miss Perfect Hot Grand Canyon Bad Ass Army Chick is in the break room patching herself up."

"Patching herself..." Grissom began to ask, but Greg was already down the hall, muttering something to himself about women and luck. This had to be good. Finding out about the epithet could wait.

The scene that met Gil as he entered the break room was surreal. A first aid kit was strewn across the table along with bloody gauze in a plastic bag. His new hire was sitting in a skimpy white tank top, wrapping her shoulder in gauze and tape, Warrick passing her medical tape as she needed it. Nick was at the sink, running what was probably a less revealing white shirt under a stream of water, a bemused and slightly stunned expression on his face.

"What's going on here?" All three of his employees heads turned.

"Dr. Grissom!" His new employee quickly finished taping the last piece of gauze. "Let me shake your hand. Once I've washed them, of course." She quickly hurried over to the sink, taking the place that Nick had just vacated. "I'm so sorry about this Dr. Grissom."

"Grissom is fine. I'm not one for formalities."

She finished at the sink, and was quickly over to him, now dry hand extended. He took it. "Nick, Warrick, I see you've already met your new co-worker, Marina Blair."

Warrick spoke with a sideways look over at Nick. "Well, Stokes here seems to already know her quite well. But I never got formally introduced."

Grissom shot a confused look over at Nick. It garnered an answer, but not from its target. Marina spoke up instead, exchanging a look with the dark haired CSI as she spoke. "Nick and I were close friends in college, and lost touch after I went into the Army."

"Ah." Grissom surveyed the room again. "So, does anyone care to share what happened here?"

Again, it was Marina who spoke. "Oh!" She said, a little laugh escaping her lips as she glanced down to her now wrapped shoulder. "I was shot just before they discharged me, and it's just been refusing to heal. I've never had this much trouble with a wound before. It's in an awkward spot, and I keep tearing it open by accident. Thank goodness Warrick here let me know before I showed up in your office with my back all bloody. I knocked the stitches loose again somehow."

Warrick snorted. "More like Nick knocked them loose for you."

"Hey now. I haven't seen her in years, and frankly was assuming the worst until she walked in here. Cut me some slack."

Before Grissom could inquire as to what that meant, Catherine's voice blared from the doorway, startling everyone. "Who was assuming the worst about who?"

"Catherine, meet our new CSI and forensic anthropologist, Marina Blair. Marina, this is Catherine Willows, our Assistant Supervisor."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Catherine." Marina stepped forward and the two women shook hands, a bright smile on Marina's face. "But, and I hate to start out by correcting my superior, but I'm not a full forensic anthropologist yet. I've still got to finish my dissertation and defend it."

Catherine laughed, "Well, Marina, you still know more about bones than any of us, so it's a pleasure to have you here, full anthropologist or not."

"Please, Catherine, call me Rina." She noticed Catherine's look at her shirt, and cut off any comment. "I apologize for my attire. I was wearing something more tasteful, but it's currently in the sink." Rina gestured to her shoulder. "This is new bandaging."

Catherine opened her mouth, letting loose an understanding "Ah. Well, I've got an extra shirt in my locker. It'll probably fit you, if you want."

"Thanks, but I've got an extra in my car just in case. I'll just run out and grab it before I get my grand tour, if that's okay with you, Grissom." Rina turned to face her supervisor, head tilted to the side, awaiting an answer.

"Of course. I'll meet you in my office."

"Awesome."

After she had turned the corner, Grissom looked directly at Nick. "Miss Perfect Hot Army Grand Canyon Chick?"

The look Grissom got in return made it clear that Nick had no idea what he was referring to. Neither did Warrick or Catherine. So he shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to ask Greg."

"I guess you will." Nick replied hesitantly, as if talking to a psychotic. Well hell, with Grissom, none of them were ever really sure he wasn't one.

----

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Reviews would be lovely!**


	3. Refresher in Human Decency

**A/N: Well, now that introduction scenes are over (again, I don't know why I always feel compelled to include them, as they're not ever my best writing...), the chapters are going to vary from drabbles to one-shots, and everything in between. And the writing will be better now that I'm in more comfortable territory. Introductions are not my strength, neither in writing or in real life for that matter. **

**There is going to be an underlying plot every once and a while, and gradually details about everyone will be revealed. But overall, think of this story like a big giant (sometimes really serious) comic strip, but in writing. Sometimes there's a plot, sometimes there's a stand alone strip. You never know what's coming next! =D**

**Disclaimer: I do not have, nor do I claim to have any ownership of or affiliation with the CSI franchise in any way shape or form. I do own my original character, but not the world in which she lives.**

----

Four months previously...

----

The sight that met Warrick as he walked into the locker room was unsettling. His coworker sat, hunched on the bench in front of his locker, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Nick had never, not once since they began working together, looked this... broken. Admittedly, he had always taken cases that involved children a little harder than usual. Everyone did. But this one they just wrapped really must have gotten to him.

It _had_ been a particularly brutal one. How someone could do that to their own daughter escaped Warrick. Hell, it escaped anyone with any sense of moral decency. He was not always a staunch believer in the whole God vs. the Devil thing, but he knew evil when he saw it. So did Nick. But they saw stuff like this every day. What was so different about this case?

Warrick watched silently as the forlorn CSI lifted his head and sat his chin on his now laced fingers, looking deep into his open locker. He stayed like that for a moment, before shutting his eyes and dropping his head again, fingers massaging his temples. Warrick couldn't watch his friend sulk any longer.

"Hey man, you alright?" he moved forward and plopped down on the bench next to Nick, who looked over--still hunched--and let out a huff of air.

"Yea. I'm fine." Again, he turned his eyes to something in his locker.

"You don't look fine."

"People can really be bastards."

"Yea, I know." Warrick followed Nick's line of vision, curious as to what he kept staring at. "You just gotta remind yourself of those who aren't." As his eyes focused on the photos scattered across the silver wall of the back of Nick's locker, his eyes widened and Warrick suddenly felt stupid. Nick was already doing just that.

The top one was clearly of Nick's parents. He looked just like his father, except for the eyes. Those clearly came from his mother. The yellowed tone and the noticeable youth of the pair made Warrick suspect it was their engagement photo. The next photo down was probably Nick and his god knows how many siblings. They were all standing in a group, arms draped across shoulders, smiles on their faces. The photo was clearly taken standing on a beach somewhere, palm trees and ocean in the background. Judging from the swimwear, it was clearly from the late 80's or early 90's. Nick looked to be about fifteen.

The last one puzzled Warrick. It was a photo of Nick and a girl that he had never seen, but just instinctively knew was not one of Nick's sisters. You don't hold a sibling like that. The two were standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, tangled in each other's arms. Cheek met cheek and smiles lit up both of their faces as if they had just shared some mutual, thrilling secret. Nick was a pretty happy guy normally, but Warrick couldn't ever remember seeing him smile like that. He could certainly see why, though. The girl was gorgeous. Her thick light brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, stray strands framing her face. She had eyes that glittered even from the distance the camera was at, a smile that brightened up everything around her. And those legs peaking out from her cut-offs... they could stop traffic.

"Who are they of?" he asked, hoping to get a name on the last photo. He hadn't thought Nick was seeing anyone. Especially after that thing with the hooker. That probably would have brought any relationship with someone else to a crashing halt. "I never noticed them there before."

"My jacket usually blocks them." Nick gestured to the pile of fabric sitting on the bench next to him. "They're just there for when I need a refresher in human decency."

Not getting the answer he was looking for, Warrick tried a more direct approach. "Who's the girl at the Grand Canyon with you?"

Nick looked over at his co-worker, still silent. After a moment his eyes traveled back to the photo, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Her?"

Warrick didn't say anything, waiting for Nick to elaborate. The pain that swirled around in his friend's eyes made him think that something very bad had happened to this girl.

"There's a reason I keep doing this CSI thing, no matter how sick people are, no matter how gruesome the crime. And there's a reason I'll never quit."

Again, Warrick didn't interrupt. Nick stood up, taking his jacket from the bench and placing it back into his locker. Shutting the door, he looked Warrick straight in the eye, leaving him with two words before striding out of the room.

"She's it."

----

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying this so far! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	4. What He Knew

**A/N: From this point forward, unless a chapter states otherwise at the beginning, assume that it takes place chronologically going forward from the first two chapters. There will often be chapters that jump back in time, but it will always be clearly stated. So if there's no date tag, or general statement of time elapsed into the past, it's in the "present." Enjoy! =D**

----

"So word has it you had a thing with the new chick."

Nick whirled around in his chair to see Sara leaning into the room, a hand braced on either side of the door frame.

"Excuse me?"

Sara tilted her head. "Warrick said the new hire is the mystery girl in your locker."

Nick's brow furrowed as he shook his head a little, not quite processing what he was hearing. How did she know about that photo? Did the whole lab know? Sara must have taken his silence as conformation of her information, because she came in and pulled up a chair.

"We figured the girl in the photo was dead after what you told Warrick about her."

Nick snorted. "So did I," a bit of bitterness coming through in his voice as he leaned back and threw his feet up onto his desk. He rubbed his forehead, his elbow getting support from the arm of the chair. The last few hours had been like a bad car chase for him. After the initial excitement and relief of seeing Rina walk down that hallway had waned away, and the adrenaline from whatever the hell had been with that wound of hers had ebbed, Nick was left confused and conflicted. The two had kept in touch through letters for about three and a half years after she deployed, and though she always seemed to be involved in top secret this, and top secret that, they had stayed close, even if it wasn't the quite relationship they had shared that summer. But then it all just stopped.

Once, when she was on leave for a few weeks, she came down to Dallas to visit him. He remembered it vividly. It had been the September of his second year in the lab down there, and she met him in the lobby after shift, camo cut-offs belted over a tight black tank top. But the combat boots were what he remembered most. He never had remembered to ask if they were her standard issue boots, or just a fashion statement. Regardless, when she walked in, her hair braided in messy pigtails, every male head in the lab turned, jaws dropped. Yet somehow he still ended up getting teased about her afterwards.

That night they had gone out to dinner at the nicest place he could afford. He couldn't remember the restaurant's name, but he did remember that she had looked amazing. Hair done, eyes sparkling, killer black cocktail dress, strappy stilettos, the works. Hours had passed like minutes as they sat at their table on the balcony, drinking in the moonlight, laughing, and talking about everything except for the fact that she had to leave the next morning. She also couldn't tell him anything about what she was doing for the feds. All he knew is that she was overseas somewhere, originally recruited as a CSI of sorts to help deal with mass graves, but that she had somehow proved otherwise useful at basic training. Now she was involved in highly confidential shit. She did make an effort to tell him what little she could, but her military service was a topic they tried to avoid. The very real possibility of her getting hurt -- or worse -- was just too much for either of them to handle. Or at least it had been for him.

The night of her visit, they had touched on the topic once. After three hours and bottle of wine. Nick remembered the way she looked at him, the rim of her glass halted midway to her mouth after he had expressed worry. Her lips had curled into a half-smile, and her emerald eyes were swirling with some emotion he couldn't identify but that made his heart break. Maybe it was love, maybe laughter, maybe hesitancy, maybe fear. Maybe it was all of those put together. He still thought about it from time to time, but all he ever got out of it was renewed heartache and more questions.

After a moment of that heart-wrenching look, whatever it meant, she replied so quietly that Nick had had to lean in to hear. "As long as the letters are still coming, you have nothing to worry about."

So naturally, when the letters stopped about six months later, he was devastated. He spent months at war with himself wondering why. When he was finally able to get hold of his sister Amanda, who had been best friends with Rina since they had met in college, he began to fear the worst. All communication between the two women had also stopped around the same time the letters stopped arriving for him. None of Amanda's mutual friends had heard from her either. After almost a year without a single communication with anyone he had any means of contacting, he accepted the worst. That same day, he put in his resignation at Dallas and took the job in Vegas...

"Nick!" Sara snapped her fingers in front of his face, startling him a bit. When he glared over at her, she offered, "Welcome back." Nick noticed that if her eyebrow had been raised any higher, it would disappear into her hairline

"Sorry. It's been a long day." He rubbed his eyes.

"Clearly. So now that you're back in reality, tell me what you know about this girl. Spill it."

Nick swiveled in his chair. What did he know about Rina? Boy, was that a loaded question.

He knew that she was born in Maine, raised in Boston.

He knew that she went to Rutgers University. That's where she met Amanda. She left with dual degrees in Criminal Justice and Anthropology, and in what little spare time she had, was into theater, dance, and music. That's how she and Amanda had connected. They were in West Side Story together. Amanda had been the Maria to Rina's Anita.

He knew that the first time he met her was in the Palermo the October of their senior year in college. They had been paired together for Colby and Lara's week long joint bachelor/bachelorette party and Vegas wedding blowout, and he loved to remember how jealous the rest of the groomsmen were when they saw her. Day one of the bash had been on Halloween, so the invitations each came with a costume assignment, the plan being that each member of the wedding party was to ID their partner by their costume when they got there. He spotted her immediately. Every man who walked in did. There she was, sitting at a poker table in a slinky red silk gown, cards in one hand, lit cigar in the other, eyes squinted in a mental battle with the middle aged man across the table. The man folded. She had been bluffing. As she took a celebratory puff of the cigar and looked his way, she blew a smoke ring at him and raised an eyebrow, the perfect Bond Girl to his 007.

He knew she took one cream and no sugar in her coffee in the morning, but two creams and one sugar in her coffee after that.

He knew she cared much more about politics than he ever did. She thought Newt Gingrich was the devil, and didn't much like Hillary Clinton, but respected her. For those very reasons, she wouldn't get along with his mother, but he always thought that his father would secretly approve. The thought of her meeting his parents had crossed his mind many times.

He knew that she was fantastic with kids, so long as they were over the age of 5. The one time he saw her hold an infant, she was awkward and unsure, regarding the bundle like it was some sort of cross between a porcelin doll and a martian. And when he lifted his nephew out of her arms that day in Phoenix, she had looked at him with one of those swirling undefinable emotions in her eyes for a moment before catching herself. She quickly put on that air of scientific observation. She did that a lot. Hiding something she was emotionally uncomfortable with by switching to scientist mode.

He knew that she loved everything peanut related. Jiff: Extra Crunchy was her favorite peanut butter, and that she always said that if she ever ended up overweight it would be because of buckeye balls, whatever those were. She had explained them as "One part peanut butter, one part chocolate, one part powdered sugar, and one part heaven."

He knew that she had a dry, witty sense of humor, with a special weakness for puns. That she was usually nervous about trying new things, but always dove in head first anyway. That when confronted, she could be cagey, and was neurotic about locking windows, but not doors. She figured that intruders will usually assume a door is locked and go straight for the window anyway. He knew that she trusted easily, and had gotten burned a lot because of it. That usually it took her a while to warm up to someone new, but once she did, there was no stopping her. He knew that she was independent to a fault, always trying to prove how tough she was to the outside world. She did not accept help gracefully without first putting up a fight. That at least had not changed a bit judging by the scene earlier in the break room.

He also knew that the Army had a reputation for changing people.

Without question he knew that they had had something special. That he had never met another woman quite as full of contradictions as she was, or that had contradictions the he liked so much so instantly. He had missed her, and that choosing to halt a romantic relationship at the end of the summer as she left for Basic had been a difficult decision. And when he had to accept the fact she was probably dead, never to return and tease him about his Texas drawl? It crushed him.

And now, he didn't know where she'd been. He didn't know why the letters had stopped. He didn't know why they hadn't started again, even if just to say "I can't write anymore." He didn't know how she ended up in Vegas. He didn't know what she was like now. He didn't know why even though she'd been a civilian for presumably a few weeks, she hadn't bothered to contact him again. He didn't know how she ended up with that bullet through her shoulder. He didn't know why she regarded it as nothing. And most disturbing to him was that he didn't know why the spark that had always made her eyes sparkle like emeralds had disappeared after her initial recognition of him. He very simply did not know who she had become, or how she had become that way. And he didn't know why that hurt him so much.

So really, he only knew one thing: He knew that he needed answers.

He stood up to leave without ever answering his coworker, and when Sara let out a "Hey!" of protest, he stopped and turned. "To tell you the truth, Sara," he said, "I don't know all that much more than you do."

----

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Reviews would be lovely! I'm still really kind of new to this whole "writing fanfiction" thing, so any feedback would be appreciated!**


	5. Compartmentalize

**A/N: Just a short little chapter for now. I've been out of town for about a month, so I'll be easing my way back into this gradually. Enjoy!**

**-----**

"This is Vegas, baby. Man up, or get out."

She had uttered those words to him exactly three times the night they met. The first two times were at the poker table. The last time, however, was half whispered, half moaned into his ear at three in the morning, his weight pressing her against his hotel room door as her arms and lips only sought to draw him closer. Even after three martinis and god knows how many straight shots of whiskey, he had still tried to be the gentleman.

A shiver ran down her spine at the memory. Figures that _that_ would be the phrase her mind would come up with as she heard Nick's voice call after her. She had almost made it to her car, too. Just thirty more feet and she would have been out the door and driving away. No questions to answer, no past to deal with. At least until the beginning of next shift later that night.

"This is Vegas, baby. Man up, or get out." She repeated the phrase in her head as she stopped and swiveled on her heel to face the sound. There he was, walking down the hall, looking exactly as her mind had conjured him up so many times before. He was even wearing that black v-necked sweater she liked so much. God damn it. Of course. He couldn't have made life easier by getting hideous over the last few years if she was going to end up his co-worker. He _had_ to still look like that.

She sighed. "Compartmentalize, Rina. Use what the Army taught you," she mentally coached herself before she replied to him. "What's up?"

He was standing right in front of her now, and she could see the questions bubbling up behind his eyes. Rina knew they were coming. From the second she had recognized him through that lab window she had been preparing herself to answer what she could. What she hadn't expected was the twinge of hurt she saw, his brow slightly furrowed, his lips turned in that "I'm trying to put on my happy face but really I'm dying inside" half-smile that had always made her want to cry. When he looked at her like that as he saw her back onto the plane that morning in Dallas, she had cried. Blubbered like a baby as soon as she was safely out of his sight line. Now, she wasn't sure if she could even last that long. She tried to brace herself to keep her poise no matter what question he asked, no matter what he said.

But no questions came out, no angry "Where were you?" or "Why didn't you write?" or "How could you play with me like that?" He didn't even ask about the hole in her shoulder. Instead, he just spoke quietly, that same heart-wrenching half-smile on his face, looking straight into her eyes the whole time. It was harder for Rina to bear than the questions would have been.

"Listen," he started. "I know you're probably busy getting unpacked and settled, but shift ends in about two hours if you need any help." He paused and blinked at her for a second before adding, "Or even just a break. I'll buy you brunch and we can catch up."

The last two words made her heart pound even harder than it had been. How in God's name could she explain the last three years? How in God's name was she going to handle him looking at her like that? How in God's name was she going to handle looking at him every day, knowing what had been and what now couldn't be? Knowing what she had done? She wanted to bolt. She wanted to turn around and sprint as fast as she could until she was either home or dropped dead. But she didn't.

Instead, she gave him a small smile, took the scrap of paper with his phone number on it from his hand, and said quietly: "Absolutely."

It wasn't until after two hours of panicked unpacking as she was sitting at her kitchen table that she let the tears flow, soaking the number scrawled in his familiar handwriting. She watched as the ink spread across the paper more with each tear drop, each ring fading from blue to the grey of wet paper. It was okay. She had looked at it apprehensively enough times by then to have the number memorized. Her breath came in ragged heaves as she began to quiet herself down.

"Compartmentalize, Rina. You have to do this." She said the words out loud this time as she took her cell phone in one hand, and the now useless scrap of paper in the other.

"Compartmentalize." With that, she dialed.

-----

**I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	6. Normalize

**A/N: Another quickie! Short, but sweet (I think... review and tell me what you think!). Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of anything besides my original character. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch.**

**-----**

He was nervous. He knew he was going to chicken out of asking what he really needed to know. Just like he did in the hallway earlier.

Nick wiped his palms on his jeans for what seemed to be the thousandth time as he stepped out of his car. He had walked out of that room after talking to Sara so confident, so resolute, so sure he was going to get his answers. And then she turned around, and all the words just flew out the window. The questions he had rehearsed in his head as he searched the lab for her--all gone, lost somewhere in those emerald pools. As soon as he saw those eyes, so strangely devoid of that fire and spark he had known so intimately, he felt like someone had just sucker punched him in the gut. They looked... empty. What had the military done to her?

Another palm wipe and a deep breath as he rang the doorbell. He couldn't chicken out. No, he _wouldn't_ chicken out. He was stronger than this. He needed those answers, damn it, and he was going to get them.

But then she opened the door.

She wasn't crying, but it was clear that she had been. Her brown hair was falling out of its pony tail, stray strands clinging to her cheeks where tears had been. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her teeth were quietly chewing away at the corner of her bottom lip as she avoided eye contact. In all the situations they had been in together, Nick had never seen her so... vulnerable. All of a sudden getting those answers didn't matter quite so much.

"Rina..." His words died in his mouth when she brought her eyes up to meet his. They certainly weren't empty anymore. Nick couldn't even place a word do describe what he saw. Sadness? Fear? Anxiety? Torment? None of those really fit, but all came close. A moment of tense silence passed before she threw herself around his neck.

"Nick, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to, you have to believe me, I didn't want to. I didn't have any other choice..."

He couldn't tell from her voice if she was talking about the evaporation of communication between the two, or if she was referencing something else. Her words seemed too laced with emotion to be the former, but right then it didn't matter what it was about. He returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight.

He felt her tears drip onto his collar, growing cold as they soaked through to his skin. "Hey now..."

"They didn't give me any other choice." Rina's chest was heaving now, the words squeaking out between the sobs she was so desperately trying to stifle.

"I know," he squeezed her tighter, deciding in that instant that he didn't care what the answers to his questions were, or what this outburst was about. "You're here. You're alive," he murmured into her hair. "That's what matters."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

"I wanted to tell you."

"I know."

"I still can't..."

"I know. Just shhh..."

A moment of silence passed before she suddenly pulled away, staring him straight in the eye. She looked wary. And lost. And scared. And it unnerved him. Nick had never seen her like that, never seen her bare herself to someone so completely. Not even to him. She bit her lip again before whispering, her eyes not moving from his. "Please don't hate me."

Nick never let his gaze waver as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Never."

She stayed silent for a moment, searching his eyes for some sign that he was lying. He stared back resolutely. He didn't know what had happened over there, he didn't know what they had made her do, but he could never hate her. He knew that much for sure.

After a while she visibly relaxed, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Progress. Good. Nick decided she was settled enough to try to normalize things, something they both desperately needed to happen. "However..." he continued, garnering a slightly furrowed brow from her, "You do know, now that we're co-workers we can't... well, you know." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, hoping to get a laugh from her.

No laugh, but at least he got a smirk and a light punch in the arm. Again, progress. "Yes, I'm aware," she quirked an eyebrow as she spoke, "but thanks for the reminder. I was totally planning to jump you as soon as shift started later."

Ah, there was that dry humor. He had missed that. "I brought you coffee." He wiped an errant tear from her cheek as he spoke. "It's in the car. The food is fantastic at the diner we're going to, but their coffee is like sludge." He smiled at her, and when she smiled back, sniffling though she may have been, he felt his heart skip a beat. Some of that sparkle was back.

"Alright, alright. Just let me clean myself up here. I'm a wreck."

Nick laughed. "Indeed you are. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you cry before."

Her hands found her hips as she rolled her eyes. "And don't think you'll see it again either, my dear co-worker." She let out a small, but genuine laugh before turning and moving into the house.

Nick didn't follow. Instead, he leaned against the door frame, his hands shoved into his pockets. Things were going to be alright. He didn't know where she'd been or why she disappeared, but he didn't much care anymore. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him eventually. He had confidence in that. For now, he was happy with whatever it was they were settling into... however it was they normalized themselves into this new situation.

Besides, he already had the answer to the only question that really mattered: under that standard issue Army facade, she was still his Rina. Under all the baggage or whatever it was, those eyes still sparkled, even if it was just a little bit.

-----

**I hope you enjoyed, and please review! I'd love to hear how ya'll liked it!**


	7. Nerves

**A/N: Remember at the beginning when I likened this story to a comic strip? Sometimes there's a small plot, like the last two chapters. Then again, sometimes there's a stand alone chapter, and well, here we go! And in another flashback chapter to boot! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original character. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch.**

----

Mid-June, 1994

----

Rina jolted upright. Did she just hear the door slam? Her eyes squinted as she listened closely. Silence, except for their breathing. Hers slightly ragged from panic, his still slow and steady with the rhythm of sleep. Had she locked the door before falling into bed last night? She thought she had... She remembered locking the window, but what about the dead-bolt? Or at least the chain? As sleep left her vision she was able to focus long enough to scan the room.

Nobody was there. She leaned back onto her hands. It must have been just one more example of her nerves in overdrive. The hyper-alertness was happening more and more as her date of deployment grew ever nearer. It was really starting to grate not only on her nerves, but on the condition of her stomach. She shook her head, as if the action could physically knock the neuroses out of her brain. She was just being silly. And even if she had heard something, it was probably just Amanda shitting around, trying to mess with her head from next door. No doubt Brian was in on it too. Well, whatever.

She looked over at the standard issue hotel clock on the dresser, it's red blocky numbers telling her it was just barely six am. A long drive lay ahead of the whole group... but they weren't planning to leave until at least eight. That way they'd reach the Four Corners Monument before sundown, take some pictures, grab some food, and be on their way to their next destination.

After her still sleep foggy brain got the itinerary worked out, her attention quickly turned to her bed mate. She couldn't help the goofy smile that spread across her face as her eyes fell on his sleeping form. He really was perfect. Or at least as close to perfect as she had met so far. He had it all. The looks... The personality... Just... Everything. Her eyes drifted from his face. He was laying on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other draped across his stomach. Rina cocked an eyebrow. That chest of his certainly didn't hurt anything, either.

A bemused huff escaped her lips. It figured. She met the man of her dreams, just in time to spend a summer, then be deployed. What a fantastic idea the Army had been. Right.

"Well, there's always letters, I guess," she said aloud as she laid back down, curling up at his side. In his sleep he shifted, throwing an arm across her, and she began to drift back off, a smile still spread across her lips.

She was only half asleep when it happened. She felt him shift beside her, pulling her closer. And then the door slammed open. In a fraction of a second, they both sat bolt upright in bed. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself, and he pushed her behind him, instinctively putting himself between her and whatever intruder had caused the noise.

"Damn, Nick! I knew you had it in you! She's HOT." The man standing in front of them was not the axe-murderer they both expected after the crash of the door. Nicks eyes narrowed in recognition.

"God damn it, Sam. Get the fuck out of here." Though his muscles had relaxed, no longer braced to protect, his jaw was twitching a bit as it clenched and unclenched, and Rina could still hear his heart pounding frantically along with her own as she huddled at his back.

As the man named Sam backed out, his two hands lifted in a gesture of surrender, Rina noticed something about his face shape. When the door closed and they were alone again, she moved from behind him and asked, "That your brother?"

Nick fell back into the pillow, running both hands through his hair as he did so. "One of 'em." The annoyance in his voice could not be more clear. "Amanda probably called him. He lives fifteen minutes from here now. Moved to Phoenix last year. Always was an early fucking riser." He looked up into her eyes, one arm retreating from its place on his head and settling once more across his stomach. "I'm so sorry."

She settled back down into the bed as well, propping herself up on an elbow so she could meet his eyes. "For what?"

"That my brother's an asshole who doesn't know how to knock."

She began to trace his jawline with her finger, their eyes meeting and a mischievous smile playing across her lips. "Well, that's hardly your fault, now is it?" They stared into each other for a moment, before he pulled her down, catching her lips with his. As the kiss deepened and the pair began to roll over, she pulled away, bringing a finger up to his lips.

He raised his eyebrows, her finger preventing him from speaking.

She gave him a grin and a wink. "Maybe you should be the one to make sure that door is really locked this time."

----

**A/N: That's it! I really appreciate everyone who has reviewed so far, and would love more even! I love hearing what you think!**


	8. Interrogation

**A/N: And we've returned from the flashback. I actually found writing from Sara's (3rd person limited) POV to be pretty difficult. Let me know if I pulled it off by reviewing! And again, thanks to all those who have reviewed thus far. I love hearing from you, and I'm glad you're enjoying this!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original character. Really. Not one thing.**

**-----**

Sara flopped onto the break room couch. "So how'd she get shot?"

Nick didn't turn from the coffee he was pouring. "Don't know."

Sara huffed a little bit and shifted her weight.

"Sara, just because you ask again doesn't mean my answer is gonna be different. I don't know." He reached for the creamer as he spoke.

"You really mean to tell me you didn't ask?"

"No, I didn't. If she wants me to know, she'll tell me." He was fiddling with the sugar now.

A sigh escaped her lips. She was getting frustrated. Marina had been working with them for about a week now, and the woman was still a mystery to Sara. Somehow they had managed not to end up on a case together yet, and Nick was being of no help at all when it came to information. She was curious, damn it. The woman was clearly competent at her job, from what Sara had seen in passing, and she seemed friendly enough, but the fact that she came straight from active duty with a fresh wound intrigued Sara. She wanted to know what made this girl tick in a way that made her willing to jump into a new job in that condition. It showed dedication that Sara hadn't yet seen in anyone but herself, and the similarity fascinated her.

As she watched Nick fiddle around at the counter she decided to try one last strategy. Try to catch him off guard. "Aren't you together, though?" She made quotation marks with her fingers as she said "together." Then she realized that he couldn't see them anyway. Shit.

Nick just snorted and shook his head, clearly getting the gist of the question despite Sara's stupid move. "No. You know that's against lab policy. It was one summer after college. We ended and moved on from that a long time ago."

"Well, you two look awfully cozy walking in in at the start of shift for two people who have moved on."

"We were close, haven't seen each other in years, so we've been grabbing coffee and trying to catch up bit by bit. I don't see how that says we're dating."

Sara cocked an eyebrow. How could he not see that? Rumors were flying all over the lab already. Well, whatever. Informing him of that wasn't going to get her any closer to the information she wanted. One last shot. "I don't see how you can spend all that time catching up and not have the seeping wound in her shoulder come up in conversation."

"Do you tell your ex-boyfriends everything?" He turned around, two mugs in hand.

Sara eyed the cups. "You mean to tell me that you know how she takes her coffee, but you don't know how she ended up with a ragged hole in her?"

Nick sighed. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. The coffee is for Warrick and Greg anyway. I lost a bet." He began to walk away, but stopped mid-step. "You know, if you want to know so badly, why don't you go talk to her? She's not going to bite you, Sara." And with that, he was out the door and down the hall, leaving Sara to roll her eyes at an empty room. She was still convinced that he knew, but clearly he wasn't going to give up information. She was just going to have to find out herself. Before she could decide how, her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn't eaten since she woke up before shift.

Sara was just settling herself at the table with a case file and an apple when Marina walked in the door.

"Hey, Sara!" The woman made a beeline for the coffee pot.

Sara spoke before she could think. "You sure do drink a lot of coffee, don't you?" She immediately regretted the words as they left her mouth. They had the edge she used in interrogations. Too late now, she'd have to go with it.

Marina stopped mid-pour and turned to face Sara, head tilted, eyes squinted ever so slightly. She smiled a little bit and answered slowly. "I do. Is that relevant?"

"No, just an observation." She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, refocusing on the file.

Next thing Sara knew, Marina was sitting next to her, now full mug in hand. "Okay," she said, placing the mug on the table. "I've seen you staring me down in the mornings when we get our case assignments. Let's deal with this now."

Sara looked over, torn between shock at the woman's bluntness and embarrassment that she hadn't been more subtle. She'd have to work on that.

Marina didn't wait for her to reply. "Because if you've got some sort of crush on Nick or something, you don't have to worry about me. It's not like that."

Sara stared her straight in the eye, "Really." It wasn't a question.

"Really."

Sara still doubted it. "Doesn't matter anyway. I don't want him."

"Okay, then what exactly is the issue here?"

"Who said there was an issue?"

"My intuition."

Oh. She was one of those. Maybe the similarity wasn't as striking as she had thought. Sara continued to hold eye contact as she crossed her arms.

Marina raised an eyebrow, looking bored. "You know, this intimidation thing isn't going to work on me. I've dealt with people much scarier than you can even imagine, even after you've been working here for a while." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Listen, I'm here, I plan on staying, so it would be a lot easier on both of us if we stopped with this 'Who's tougher' stand-offy shit. So, what's up?"

Okay then, this girl wanted blunt? Sara was going to be blunt. "How'd you get shot?"

Marina blinked a little before laughing. "Really? That's what the interrogation techniques were about?"

Sara couldn't help but chuckling a little herself. The girl's laugh was contagious. And it _was_ kind of ridiculous. She uncrossed her arms and reached for her apple, speaking before taking a bite. "Nick says he doesn't know."

"So you think it's some sort of super secret?" Marina had leaned back into her chair and was cradling her coffee mug in her hands.

Sara finished chewing."No, I just think he's lying."

Another laugh. "Well, he's not. Besides, it's a shitty story anyway." She looked down into her mug, absentmindedly stirring the liquid inside with the little red straw. "I was running a marksmanship workshop as part of basic, and one of my recruits was just extra clueless. The gun misfired and as he tried to fix it, it went off. Ended up getting me right in the shoulder as I was rushing over shouting that he shouldn't hold the thing like that." She swiveled her chair back and forth a few times before adding with a snort, "Dumb ass."

Well, that was anticlimactic. Sara chuckled, half at the story, and half at herself as she remembered all the elaborate scenarios she had been imagining. "Well, I bet he felt pretty terrible, huh?"

"Oh man, he was a mess. Crying and blubbering all over as they patched me up. The Army was a bad decision for him, I think." Marina tilted the chair back, curling her knee underneath her. She looked at Sara for a moment before laughing again.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to decide what's funnier: that my wound is like this big lab mystery, or that you think Nick would be a good enough liar to cover it up."

Sara snorted. "So, Nick really doesn't know?"

Marina shook her head. "No, he really doesn't. Actually, he's been acting all funny about it."

"Really?"

"Yea. He's been really, I don't know... careful?" She stopped and thought for a moment, as if searching for a better description. "Dodgy almost."

Realization dawned on Sara as she remembered his insistence that "She'll tell me when she's ready." Typical Nick. Careful and considerate. She tapped her finger on the table and pointed it at Marina without lifting her hand. "I think I know why."

"Oh yeah?"

"I think he thinks it was some sort of traumatic experience. Doesn't want to bring up painful memories or something."

Marina just shook her head. "Boy, he really hasn't changed one bit, has he?" Sara didn't reply. The question was clearly not meant for her to answer. "I mean, I've been through a lot of traumatic shit thanks to good old Uncle Sam, but this certainly wasn't one of those instances."

"So, are you going to tell him?"

Marina shrugged. "Eventually."

A moment of silence passed. "It could be fun to watch him tiptoe around it." Sara tilted her head, waiting for Marina's reaction.

Her lips curled into a smile as she raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what I was thinking." Sara was liking her more and more with every word she spoke. Marina continued, "And you know what? Keep it between me and you. Let's let the rumor mill come up with a better story for the damn scar I'm going to end up with."

"You got it."

The two women exchanged a conspiratorial smile just as Nick popped his head in the door. "Sara, we got a DB on Sunset. I'm helping Warrick sort through the fingerprints on the hotel murder, you want to take it?" He looked up and his brow furrowed as he saw the two women sitting together. Sara and Marina exchanged a glance.

Sara stood up, tossing her apple core into the trash can. "Well, Marina, wanna tag along?"

"Sure thing. And really, Rina is fine." She pushed away from the table herself, moving towards the sink with her mug.

Sara took the paper with the address out of Nick's hand, and he furrowed his brow. "I don't like that look." He squinted at her questioningly.

Sara looked over at Marina, who looked back, a small smile on her face. The two women answered in unison, "Don't worry about it," before striding out, leaving Nick dumbfounded in their wake.

-----

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	9. Of Peanuts and Atlases

**A/N: Just a quick, fun little more-than-drabble. I saw the season one finale for the first time since it originally aired about two nights ago, and the scene in the evidence locker got my wheels turning.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Rina, nor do I claim to. The dialogue taken directly from the episode (from beginning to "Buh-bye") also does not belong to me, nor did I create it. It is taken verbatim from episode 1x23: Strip Strangler.**

-----

Time line: During episode 1x23: Strip Strangler

-----

Rina knew enough to duck back behind the corner as soon as she saw that douche-rag Culpepper standing in the evidence room door. He had that predatory look in his eye that she was all too familiar with. He had somebody cornered.

"Best thing you can do for your boss? Protect him from himself."

Rina rolled her eyes as she pressed herself up against the wall to listen. Asshole.

"Wha, Grissom?" It was Nick's voice. Rina suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. Of all the people in the lab to have to lie to a fed, of course it would end up being Nick. He always had been a shitty liar.

She heard him huff a little before continuing, "Look, I gotta run, Peanut. Love you too. Buh-bye." His words were quickly followed by the click of his phone closing.

Before she could react, she heard Culpepper's perfect little wingtips start clicking away, and she tensed, ready to bolt. The file in her hand was meant for Grissom, and she knew if he saw her it would be confiscated. The footsteps were further away now, he had chosen the other direction from where she was hidden. As soon as she knew she was safe from discovery, she moved into the evidence room doorway to see Nick shaking his head at his phone, eyes narrowed.

"Peanut?"

Nick immediately looked mortified at the sound of her voice, but didn't say anything.

"Boy, I haven't heard that name in years." She placed her hands on her hips, feigning outrage. "Don't tell me you've given it to Grissom! I thought that was just for me, you, and a bottle of Jack!"

"It was the first nickname I thought of." His cheeks twinged pink a little.

"Yea, and I know exactly why, too." Rina laughed, herself blushing a little bit at the memory. Boy, had they been drunk that night.

He frowned. "Oh, shove it."

"Well, fine then." Rina's phone rang. As she saw Grissom's name pop up on the caller ID, a grin spread across her face. "You gave away mine? I'll just have to give away yours too."

"Wai-"

Nick didn't even have a chance to finish his protest as Rina snapped the phone open. "Hey, Atlas, sweetie, how are you?"

A middle finger was met with a "So there!" smile.

-----

Meanwhile, Grissom stood in the middle of his living room, staring down at the phone in his hand as if it had grown legs and started doing the Can-Can. He could hear Marina's voice on the other end asking, "Can you hear me? Gris? Hello?" but he didn't bring the phone back up to his ear. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to, either, lest he be called something else baffling. In the span of three minutes, he was just addressed as a snack food, and either the Greek Titan who held up the world or a book full of maps. Could have been either one.

What the hell were the feds doing to his lab?

-----

**A/N: Just a fun little blurb! Review please, I really appreciate feedback! =D**


	10. Stubborn with a Side of Lilacs

**A/N: I'm back! And I think it's about time I addressed the title. I challenged you guys to figure out where it's from in the first few chapters, and Moochiecat got it technically right, right off that bat. The title comes from the lyrics to a song called "Two of Us." Moochiecat identified it as a Wallflowers song. It was originally done by the Beatles on the Let it Be album, which is the version I know, and I had no idea that the Wallflowers had covered it, so thanks Moochiecat! I'm on the hunt for a recording now! =D**

**Anyway, Enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own my original character, but not the world in which she lives nor the people she interacts with. ****CSI**** and all related material is the property of its owner, and I claim no affiliation or rights to any of it.**

-----

She was perched on a stool, hunched over the glass evidence table when Nick walked in. Every muscle in her body was tensed, her small frame curled in on itself as if to protect itself from blows. Multiple crushed Styrofoam coffee cups littered the space around where she had her work spread out, a full, intact cup clutched in her left hand. Her light brown hair was fighting the neon green elastic that had held it back from her face, and her right hand put the highlighter down every few seconds to brush another errant strand out of her way, corralling it temporarily behind her ear. Nick watched her repeat the motion a few more times, and that's when he noticed it. Her hand was shaking.

He felt his mouth flatten into a frown as his chest tightened. No wonder even Sara had called him.

The second he had noticed the tattoo on the vic last night, he knew this one was going to be a problem. That black and gold "Ranger" that was forever emblazoned on the poor bastard's left shoulder had set his "Rina-watch" on high alert. He knew Rina hadn't _been_ a Ranger, since she was female, but one of the first things she had written to him about all those years ago was that she had been attached to the 75th in some capacity. An apparently unprecedented action. The DB's dates of service aligned with hers perfectly, and that made Nick nervous.

He leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching her reach up and stretch, her hands above her head, a small squeak emitting from her throat as she released and returned to her crunched position. The small, feline like noise almost made him smile. Almost. He decided to speak. "Have you eaten yet?"

She didn't even look up from her papers. "No."

He had figured as much. "Rina, you have to eat."

"I'm fine." Again, she her head never even stirred.

"You've been here since shift started." Nick shifted his weight, removing his shoulder from the door frame as he checked his watch. "Thirteen hours ago. You're not fine."

He hadn't thought her body could get any tenser, but as soon as he finished his sentence, she crunched even farther in on herself. His frown deepened and he felt the urge to just pick her up and carry her out. Away from the phone records, away from whatever memory this case was bringing up, away from whatever was making her body do that to itself. Just scoop her up, walk out, and keep going until she relaxed.

"I've just got to finish up these phone records," she tightened a little more before continuing, "and then I'll go grab something."

Nick sighed and made his way towards her. "Bullshit." He took her by the arm, forcing her to turn and look him in the eye. "You're lying." Her mouth twitched a bit. He leaned in closer, placing a hand on the table. "You're going to finish the phone records and then move on to something else."

Her eyes narrowed. He could see her getting defensive, but at least she was sitting up straight now so she could meet his gaze. That awful, gut-tearing tension was gone.

She wrenched her arm out of his loose grip, her emerald irises burning into him. "No, I'm not."

His now empty hand found her shoulder and his voice softened. "Rina, you told Sara you were going to do the same thing after you finished analyzing those fingerprints three hours ago." He really didn't want this to turn into a battle of wills. Her posture had him too worried for that.

She shot back immediately. "Who are you, my father?"

He sighed and released his hand from her, letting it drop with his own shoulders. He looked into her eyes for a moment, pleading with her silently to just stop fighting and listen to him. He was right this time.

After a moment he spoke, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. Too soft. Too weak. "I'm worried about you."

In return, she rolled her eyes, and he knew the situation was worse than he had originally thought. "You're always worried about me."

_Damn straight I am. _This was about to turn nasty, and he knew it. If he kept pushing, her walls were going to come flying up, with that shield of callous bitchiness to boot. The eye rolling was always the first sign. But he pushed on anyway. Past experience with her told him that, the higher the walls, the more she needed someone else to step in and take over. Someone else to make her do what deep down she knows is best, even when she can't bring herself to listen. He was not in the mood to fight with her, but if she was going to turn on the stubborn now, then he'd meet her head to head.

"Yea." He folded his own arms. He was going to win this one come hell or high water. "But this time the rest of the lab agrees with me."

"Probably because you've been whipping them up."

"No, Catherine called _me_. So did Sara. Not the other way around. They think you're taking this case a little personally because of the Rangers connection. And I have to say, from what I'm seeing here, I agree."

"They can _think_ all they want. And before you even go there, for the last time, I didn't know the guy. Never laid eyes on him in my life."

Nick ignored the last comment. He doubted it was truth anyway. "Shift ended five hours ago. You're not scheduled for a double."

"A little extra work never killed anyone."

"It will if you don't eat."

"I told you, I'll eat when I finish these phone records." She turned back to the table, hunching again.

That was it. That was all he was going to listen to. He was putting his foot down. Her posture was tearing at his heart, and he was sick of arguing. "No. You'll eat now. I did not drag my ass off my couch and come all the way into work, just to be told you'll eat later. Let's go. We're going to the diner, and then you're going home and sleeping."

She turned back to him, one hand on her hip, "And what makes you-" her words were cut short with a squeak as Nick bent and pitched her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

He began to walk, talking to her as she made noises of protest. "I'm still bigger than you, Army or not, and you're not staying here." In reality, she could be free in half a second if she really wanted to. Size wouldn't make one iota of a difference with her. But she wouldn't struggle. Not really. She'd pretend to, to keep up appearances, to not damage her pride in front of the rest of the lab, but deep down she knew she needed to leave. And he was the only one she'd let force her to.

By the time they reached the trace lab, she had given up any pretense of trying to get away and was letting herself hang. If he put her down now, she'd come with him, but he didn't want to. Maybe having everyone see her carried out would make her listen to him next time. And there would be a next time. It was Rina, after all.

Besides, he was enjoying the fact that he could smell her shampoo. Still the same brand after all that time. Smelled like lilacs.

He stopped to ask Hodges to do him a favor and go toss the debris from her coffee consumption, and as he spoke she let out an exasperated sigh, dropping her forehead against his arm. The movement sent another whiff of shampoo his way, and he smiled to himself.

There was a reason he was the only straight man in Vegas who bought a house simply because of the lilac bushes in the front yard.

-----

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did (or didn't for that matter) please review and let me know that!**


	11. Stargazers

**A/N: 'Bout time I got back to this! My writing mojo is flowing again, so here's another installment! Again, thanks to all who have taken the time to review. I always do appreciate feedback! =D Enjoy and review!**

**Disclaimer: While I do own Rina, I do not own the world in which she lives or the characters she interacts with, nor do I claim any rights to or affiliations with those things. Everything belongs to their proper owner, which is not me.**

-----

Rina squished the sand between her toes, smiling to herself as the light from the fire danced across her face. The water in front of her, the cliffs at her back... the place was just as beautiful as she remembered it. God, it felt like a lifetime ago that she was last on this shore. Why had she not come back there yet? It had been over three months since moving in, and considering all the amazing memories tied up here, it shocked her that she hadn't paid the cove a visit.

Although, come to think of it, maybe all those memories were exactly what had kept her away. Not that they were bad... They just reminded her of what she could never have again, she supposed. She'd certainly never get that heady giddiness back. That joy that seemed endless, fueled by kisses that tasted of Corona and lime, too-loud music, and good friends.

"You know, it's not smart for a pretty young thing like you to be wandering around at Lake Mead all by yourself at this hour." That familiar Texas drawl sounded behind her, the twang of his voice wrapping around her like a security blanket.

She chuckled slightly, keeping her gaze frontward across the water. "I'm Ranger trained, even if I don't officially have the title. I think I'll be fine. Besides the wackos are all in for the morning by now."

"Might want to let Grissom know about that Wacko Curfew. If that's true, I can't possibly see why we even have a grave shift to begin with." His hearty laugh sounded closer now as his tone turned serious. "But really Rina, you shouldn't be hanging around here alone." Nick gave her a slightly concerned look as he plopped down on the blanket beside her. She rolled her eyes.

He frowned, but much to her relief, dropped the subject. "So what exactly are you doing out here all by yourself, Peanut?"

This time it was a genuine laugh that escaped her lips as she gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. "I could ask the same thing of you, Atlas." Their old pet names had made a slight comeback as of late. Only when they were alone, though. The day one of them slipped in the lab was the day Rina had to deck him. Because, of course, it would be him that slipped. Rina didn't slip. Ever.

Nick laughed, falling over onto his elbow from the push of her fist. "I come here sometimes after shift. When I need to think. Or when I'm bored. The sunrises are mind blowing."

"I remember that."

"Beer?" he offered forth a brown bottle from the six-pack he had been carrying as he righted himself.

Rina let one hand escape from her sweater sleeve to take it, popping it open with her keyring. "You know, Nicky, drinking alone is a sure sign of alcoholism," she raised an eyebrow, half joking, half serious.

"I had a feeling I'd have company tonight." He reached over and brushed his thumb across her chin, sending shivers down her spine. "So what exactly is it that brings you to my thinkin' spot?"

She felt a little weird as his statement reminded her that he had been living in Vegas for some time. Long enough to have an association with this spot that she didn't share. That fact sat funny in her stomach for some reason, and she couldn't meet his eyes. So she focused on the darkness of the water. "I felt like I needed some good memories."

"I know the feeling."

"Remember the post rehearsal party party?"

Nick leaned back onto his elbows, looking up towards the sky with a smile. "How could I forget? You prancing around here in that little cloth thing-"

She interrupted, slightly indignant. "Sarong. It's a bathing suit cover-up. Perfectly legitimate beach clothing."

He snorted. "Cover-up? Well, it wasn't a very good one, because it certainly didn't cover much."

"And? So what? I was twenty-one with a flawless body, and on a beach." She took a swig of her beer and drew her knees up to her chest, desperately wishing she could still pull off the bikini/sarong look. A sigh escaped. "Long gone are those days."

"I really doubt that, Peanut." He sent a skeptical look her way and she drew her knees closer to her chest. "And besides, don't go getting all defensive. I never said I didn't like it."

Her lips lifted into a smirk, "I'll say you didn't. Kept me within two feet of you all night. Kept trying to get me to put on a sweatshirt."

"Hey now, you were armed with a bottle of Jack, all for yourself, and those other guys were animals!" He shrugged, clearly trying to look nonchalant over the fact that she had just called him out, and failing at it. "I was just making sure they didn't take advantage of you. Besides, you were going to freeze to death in that thing."

Rina took another swig of beer as she attempted to hide the smile that spread across her face. A shadow of that heady giddiness threatened to return, and she welcomed the feeling. She secretly loved it when he got protective. Always had, even after only knowing him a week. "Always the gentleman, Nicky."

"That's how my momma raised me."

They fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their beer, both lost in memories of bonfires past. Rina looked over at him, sprawled out across the blanket in his jeans and the worn A&M sweatshirt she had spent so much time in herself. Images of that summer after college flashed across her mind and a sad smile spread across her face. Well, better friends than nothing. As she put down her empty bottle and flopped onto her back, she reminded herself that it was sheer luck as it was that they had reconnected. She should just be thankful for that.

Seconds later he joined her in her star gazing, sprawling out the rest of the way and putting his hands behind his head.

She suddenly felt the urge to curl up under his arm like old times.

But no. Couldn't happen. That was inappropriate now. She tried to distract herself by looking for constellations. Gemini, Andromeda, Orion, Taurus...

"Hey," her voice was barely a whisper over the murmuring of the water and the pops and crackles of the fire. Nick looked over at her as she pointed up. "There are your kids."

"My kids?"

"The Pleiades." She was met with silence from him, so she elaborated. "Atlas's daughters with Pleione. There are seven of them, but we can only see six."

Nick let out a laugh and pulled her to him, settling his arm around her in exactly the way she had tried to avoid earlier. "Even with all that Jack in you, you still spouted all sorts of Greek star stuff. Glad to see you haven't lost that."

"I just couldn't get over the amount of stars. Not used to skies that clear in the Northeast. Too many cities. Too many lights." Rina settled her head onto his chest, her mind chanting at her that she shouldn't be doing this. Colleagues don't cuddle. But... they had a history, right? They were close friends in addition to colleagues. And it just felt so... normal. As she relaxed into him, throwing an arm across his chest, she noticed the sky ever so slightly lightening on the horizon.

They laid there for about half an hour, watching the sky gradually change from black to blue to orange, arms wrapped around each other. Rina suddenly remembered what a good pillow his chest made as she fought to keep her eyes open.

As the first hints of the sun started to appear, Nick broke the silence. The sound was so quiet that it registered more to Rina as a rattle in his chest than spoken word.

"I missed you."

The words echoed through her, warming her to the core, and she realized that this was going to be a lot harder than she had ever thought.

But tonight was not the time to worry about it. So instead, she just hugged him tighter and closed her eyes, whispering back.

"I missed you too."

-----

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think in a review!**


End file.
